


clementine

by asheijis



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Also kind of, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Character Study, Drug Use, Gen, Is this a song fic?, Kinda?, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Retrospective, Song fic, Triggers, cops being gross, i just wanna know why their relationship has a lot of homosexual undertones, idk ill add the tag anyway, kind of, kind of?, max acts abt griff like a forlorn wife of a man lost to war, the griffin/max is v lowkey and just barely there and its just . in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asheijis/pseuds/asheijis
Summary: max can't get that song out of his head
Relationships: Griffin Callenreese & Max Lobo, Griffin Callenreese/Max Lobo, Max Lobo & Ash Lynx
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	clementine

**Author's Note:**

> hihi!! still moving but i was able to catch a break bc im currently also sick!! :D fun times but !! i found a lap harp that had the sheet music for clementine and i started. Thinking.

The first time Max heard the tune was when he had his first downtime with the members of his squad. He’d heard it before, who hadn’t, but usually it was whistled, so when he heard the words being sung out of one of the lankier guys he did a double take. He had scraggly light brown hair and tired but bright eyes with a couple smile lines. Looked to be around his age. 

“What was that tune you were singing?” His voice was a bit rough, but it was alright for now. The man started, turning to him with a shaken expression. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, chuckling awkwardly. 

“Oh, jeez, ya heard that? Sorry, it’s just Clementine.” The man's voice was weirdly different from his singing. While his singing had been mostly on tune, albeit a couple loose ends, his speaking voice was full of cracks and seams where it was well worn. Max guessed it could be endearing if he got used to it. “I’m used to singing little songs to my kid brother back home, I guess I just forgot, sorry again.” The man gestured a few times with his hands, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Whether it be from the heat or the embarrassment, Max didn’t know. 

“A kid brother? What’s that like?” Max gestured for him to sit down on the bench nearby with him and the man took it. His hands were a tad antsy, but it was alright. 

“Oh he’s a little smartass! Told his teacher that she had done the math on the board wrong and she didn’t want to admit she had, so she called me up back when I was home. Expected me to hand the phone over to our dad.” He talked animatedly, fast and bright. “ _Excuse me, could you please give the phone to your father_.” he dragged the last word out in an imitation of her. 

“That sounds irritating.” Max wasn’t about to pry about why he couldn’t - or didn’t want to - hand the phone over. It seems he didn’t have to. 

“See, me and little Aslan, we have different moms, y’know? Once his mom went back to live with her parents, our dad told me to take care of him. So we live in this little house together, and it ain’t that bad!” He lowered his voice for the first time since he started talking. 

“Yeah, seems like it. Aslan’s a nice name, though.” Max twirled his thumbs. 

“Ah, yeah! Little Aslan Callenreese. His mom gave it to him before… yeah.” His voice faltered a bit at the end, but he seemed alright. 

“And your name?” Max almost laughed at the stupefied look on his face, slowly turning to abject horror. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” He turned completely to face Max, eyes wide with more apologies threatening to spill over. “I’m Griffin Callenreese, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand for Max to take. 

“Max Lobo.” He shook the hand, hoping to get to know this weird lanky guy better. 

Griffin later on was humming it once more as he sealed up a letter to send off to Aslan. He hadn’t noticed Max yet. 

“Are you gonna tell him about his uncle Max now?” Max’s voice was teasing, playful. Griff about jumped out of his skin, panting and clutching his chest as Max laughed, holding onto his stomach. 

“Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that!” Griff sighed, looking back down at the paper. “I did tell him about how I made a few friends out here though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t, Griff! He’s just your kid brother, it’s all good!” Max smiled, hoping to calm his nerves. It seemed to work, Griff giving a small chuckle and eye roll before finishing the seal. 

Griffin would sometimes hum it after he took a xan or two, staring off into the middle distance as he sat with Max after a long day. 

“Y’know when you get back home, you’re gonna have to quit that.” Max didn’t look at him as he said it, staring off where Griffin was staring. He hummed noncommittally. “I’m bein’ serious Griff. You gotta be there for the kid, and you can’t when you’re popping something every other day.” Max turned to him, bringing his knees up to his chest. It was a cold night. 

“Yeah, I know.” Was his answer after a period of time, his eyes finally casting downwards to look at where his shoes met the concrete. They sat there for god knows how long, Max keeping watch to make sure he didn’t accidentally OD while Griffin sat there in silence, eyes drooping. “Bad shits happenin’ out here, ain’t it Max?” His voice was quiet, sounding like it was close to tears. 

“Yeah. Guess we signed up for it though.” Max put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “Don’t make it any better.” He muttered as an afterthought. Griffin blinked slowly, looking like he’d almost fallen asleep before his eyes popped back open. 

“I was forced into it. There aren’t many jobs up there n’ it’s hard to support a kid when you’re barely college age.” Griffin reached for a water bottle, taking a long swig. Max nodded along, rubbing circles into his shoulder. They sat there for longer, waiting for something to happen. “Y’know Abraham?” 

“Yeah I know Abraham, why?” Max didn’t want to be snarky with him. Of course he knew Abraham, they were in the same squad, they shared a bunk. 

“I think he’s doing somethin’ fucked up Max.” Griff barely ever swore, Max had learned. It was left over from raising a kid back home, you learned not to swear. 

“Really?” Max decided to let him think about it. Truth be told, he got the creeps from the little guy as well. Griffin just nodded and went back to staring at his feet. Soon enough, Max would probably have to carry him inside and put him in his bed, but until then they would sit. 

He found _himself_ humming it the night when Griffin shot up their squad. He didn’t like thinking about the blank look in his eyes, the drool collecting at his chin, the tattered words containing only two words. He didn’t see Max, didn’t know he was there. He couldn’t have. Max wanted to tell him to get up, that he needed to get back home to Aslan, but Griffin just sat there, breathing shallowly and staring into nothing. Every time he caught himself humming it after that, he tried to stop himself. 

He’d hear it at truck stops, gas stations, the police office. Everywhere he went someone somewhere would start whistling that damned tune. It was getting to the point where Max wasn’t sure he was ever going to escape it. It all accumulated one night at the station where one of the cops started imitating an old man who had been hit by a car earlier and was still in critical condition. He whistled the tune, grabbing a broken cane and squinting his eyes before falling in a heap, rasping that he couldn’t get up. Everyone else laughed but Max was abhorred by the sight in front of him. Why did he ever sign up for this? It was money of course, and they pushed for each of the remaining members of their squad to go into it. The pen Max held in his hands snapped. 

He heard it in jail a fair amount, but he was learning to try tuning it out. His job at the office was gone, but it was fine. He was going to do more of the journalism he used to do for a couple newspapers, but hopefully with a bigger publication this time. He wanted to actually make something change for once. 

His new roommate was a kid, so he felt like he could hum it and have it not be the end of the world. Ash didn’t seem to mind, beyond a puzzled look thrown his way ever so often. It was only when Ash revealed himself to be Griff’s kid brother that he realized why he looked at him so odd whenever he caught him humming. Max’s insides twisted around in an angry amalgam of guilt , feeling much like it was eating away his insides. He’d lie awake, thinking about if only he’d told his supervisor that Griff was jacked all the time, he’d have been sent back and Aslan wouldn’t be stuck here in jail. The guilt only ever got worse, especially when Ash would tell him he hated him for what he’d done to his brother. Max knew the teenager wouldn’t want to hear how Max still had nightmares about frantic eyes and labored breaths and gunshots and going through Griffin’s stash trying to figure out what could’ve done it and why hadn’t he gone with him that night, he _always_ watched him. Ash didn’t want to hear any of that. He was a neurotic teen in adult’s jail. He already had enough on his plate. 

Griffin had been shot and they didn’t know if he would make it. Jenkins had told him not to tell Ash, but he couldn’t help it really. Ash deserved to know what happened. Of course, the kid lost his shit and wouldn’t let Max leave the room without fighting him. He was a stubborn piece of shit, a smartass just like Griff had said he was. Max ended up having no choice in the matter anyway, but when they returned to their cell later that night and Max brought out some shitty bourbon, Ash’s hands shook ever so slightly. He offered the kid some, just so he might sit down and rest, but Ash stuck his nose up to it. 

“Y’know Griffin n’ I were real close back there Ash. He was too soft for what we were forced to do, got by using drugs. I didn’t make that much of an effort to stop him, just tried watching over him. He was too good to be there, getting ruined and ran rough and ragged.” Max swirled his cup, electing to ignore the boy's retreating figure. “Do whatever you want, go ahead. I’m too tired anyway.” He knew he was talking out of his ass. He had _plans_ for once he got out. Right now though, he couldn’t bring himself to really mind, the burn of the whiskey on his throat attracting all his attention. He heard Ash toss something onto his bed behind him. He’d mostly been kidding, but he should know not to put it past Ash anymore. 

“Steven Thompson. Before he died he told me to go to Banana Fish and gave me a locket with white powder inside. After that he said forty two Westwood, Los Angeles and died.” Ash’s voice was even as Max shifted in his seat to look at him. 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

“I don’t know.” Ash finally lifted his head, Max seeing the tear tracks on his face. The kid was wide eyed, staring into the middle distance much like how Griffin had on his bad nights. “I wish I could hate you. I need someone to hate.” Max thought he was a perfectly fine contender. “He raised me. Without him I would’ve starved, and I loathed seeing him in that dingy little army hospital.” 

“You had it tough, huh kid.” Max smacked his teeth, pouring another shot quickly. 

“I don’t need your sympathy!” Max got where he was coming from, knowing the ins and outs of people looking at him with pity back after Griffin’s episode. The odd feeling that would come upon him whenever someone so much as extended an olive branch. All he could do was try. 

“Here.” Ash looked up at the offered glass, squinting at it. He caved eventually, throwing it back and wincing. 

“Damn bland.” 

“Shut up and drink it if you’re going to.” 

That night he had a dream where he saw Griffin, whistling that god-forsaken tune. He was sitting atop a hill with a small Aslan, and he was rolling down the hill in a well worn pair of overalls and running back up to him giggling. Griff would smile down at him, asking if he wanted to go again and Aslan would nod enthusiastically, grinning ear to ear. They had a little picnic blanket all set up with a basket that had two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in it, a thermos of cold water to share. There was an abandoned apple core on the blanket beside Griffin, miraculously not attracting flies yet. Max was there, sitting opposite Griffin. He smiled at Max and he felt at ease. 

He got the news that Griffin would survive after they were already on their way to Cape Cod. Ash had been acting as if he’d died since the shooting, ever pessimistic. Max on the other hand had wanted to hold onto that hope for once. Seemed he was lucky. Wrapped up in his internal celebration, he found himself singing the song lowly on the drive there. Ash had chastised him for repeating the single line over and over again and Max just smiled, knowingly. 

“It’s the only part I know!” He grinned as Ash groaned, twisting around in his seat until he could turn away from Max comfortably. The tips of his ears were dusted pink and Max laughed, a full and hearty one like he used to have. Everything would eventually turn out fine, he hoped. But for now, all he had to do was drive.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyed!!! keep ur health and safety a priority!!!! feel free to leave a comment or kudos if u liked it jdbfshbvffvh :DDDD


End file.
